


To See Again

by Kathendale



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Blind Character, Deaf Clint Barton, Dehydration, Depression, Derogatory Language, Exhaustion, Forgive Me, Gang Rape, Hurt Scott, Hurt Scott Lang, Laura Barton is Clint's Sister, Love Triangles, M/M, Medical Torture, Only Scott gets tortured, Psychological Torture, Scott Lang-centric, Sensory Deprivation, Slight Tony bashing, Sound Torture, Starvation, Suicide Attempt, Survivor Guilt, The Raft Prison (Marvel), Torture, Touch-Starved, Trans Male Character, Trans Scott, Trans Scott Lang, Transphobia, Waterboarding, realistic ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-26 21:12:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16688917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kathendale/pseuds/Kathendale
Summary: Scott, Sam, Clint, and Wanda were arrested and taken to The Raft without a trial by a corrupt Thaddeus Ross. Ross is willing to do anything to find Rogers, even pushing people to the brink of death. Will they survive?





	To See Again

**Author's Note:**

> We do not have enough Scott centric stories in here, and I intend to fix it. Comments and kudos make me more likely to update sooner. I have a plan to update this every other Tuesday after this first publication, though comments may speed up the process. This first chapter comes from Clint's point of view, in a third person view.

Scott lay there silently, his eyes squeezed tightly shut in pain. Clint ran over, concern etched deeply into his face. "Scott, bud, can you hear me?" Clint asked in concern, brushing the hair sticking to his forehead away. Only silence crackles in his hearing aids.

No second requests for orange slices, and no goofy lopsided grin. Just an eerie silence.

"Mr. Barton, if you would surrender willingly that would be preferred of both parties." Clint felt his skin crawl at the sound of Thaddeus Ross's silky smooth voice. Clint turned slowly on his heel.

Ten guards stared back at him blankly, guns trained on either him or Scott's prone body.

Taking in his situation, Clint slowly lifted first his bow then his quiver away from where they were slung around his neck, placing them neatly on the ground. He clenched his teeth in anger when one of them carelessly kicked his beloved bow that his sister had crafted away.

The guard sneered at him, his grip tight on his gun.

Ross smirked as Clint slowly raised his hands in surrender.

"Good choice, Barton. Arrest them." Ross ordered. The guards slammed his head into the pavement, wrenching his arms violently behind his back.

"HEY! Don't hurt Lang, he's unconscious!" Clint snarled as the men hauled him to his feet.

The five guards that had marched over to Scott ignored him, one of the scrawnier men opting to kick Scott in the ribs, hard. "STOP!" He shouted once again, only to get harshly elbowed in the face.

"Mr. Barton, I believe you are in no position whatsoever to be barking commands." Ross stated calmly, adjusting his tie as if he couldn't be bothered with them.

The five other guards had dragged the unconscious Scott to his feet. Clint and Scott were marched, or, in Scott's case, dragged, to a large waiting helicopter.

Clint subconsciously listened as the men strapped Scott into his seat, jeering at him and calling him names.

Clint's eyes flew open as he heard shouting, and looked up to see Sam being dragged towards them, also handcuffed.

Sam was yelling at the guards roughly handling Wanda, who appeared to be dazed, mumbling to herself. She was in a straitjacket with her hands cuffed behind her back with strange gloves covering them.

"Sam?" Clint asked, and the man in question's head whipped around, before he relaxed as he recognized Clint.

"Those assholes hit Wanda in the side of the head before putting her in that straitjacket." Sam ground out, fuming with rage. Clint squeezed his eyes shut as he clenched and unclenched his fists, angry with himself for not being there to protect her.

He owed Pietro that much. "What's up with Tic Tac?" Sam piped up, breaking his chain of thought. "He passed out after the fight, think going big did a toll on him." Sam's face scrunched up sympathetically.

"He gonna be okay?" Clint hesitated, remembering how silent the usually energetic, spunky man had been before nodding.

"I hope so, he'll probably wake up with a concussion from hell." Sam winced. "Those ain't fun. By the way, where's your bow?" Clint growled softly.

"Bastards kicked it away after I gently settled it on the ground." Sam's face darkened, he knew how much that bow meant to Clint.

His face slipped to one of concern as he looked over at Scott's unconscious form.

"C'mon, Tic Tac. You gotta be okay." Sam murmured. One of the guards pounded loudly on the glass separating them.

"Quiet back there!" The guard barked, waving his gun threateningly. Sam scowled at the man, but remained silent.

The guard turned back around, a smug smirk on his face. Clint wanted to wipe the smugness off that mans face.

For the remainder of the ride Scott stayed slumped weakly against Clint's shoulder, the only indication of his being alive was the heaving of his chest.

"Scott, please wake up. C'mon." Clint whispered under his breath. 

* * *

The helicopter finally landed after the long ride, and the guards who had been with Sam, Clint, and Scott rushed out of the two helicopters they had flown in.

The guards grabbed the three of them and dragged them into a small dark room. Clint jerked slightly as a blindfold was suddenly tightened over his eyes.

"Walk forward." A monotone voice commanded, and he did so, not making a comment when one of the guards tripped him up.

Eventually, he was told to stop. First the handcuffs were removed, and then the blindfold. The door to his cell was quickly shut.

He took in his surroundings. In the far left of the room was a toilet. No sink.

Along the right wall was a bed made of plastic that looked more like the rafts Lifeguards used to keep people afloat.

In the bottom right corner was where he had been thrown in, a large, steal door closed in on him. In front of him was a large, glass window, which was see through.

He could see the cell directly across from his, which mirrored the arrangements.

Clint jumped up when he heard shouting, and pressed his face against the glass, looking down the corridor.

Guards were practically dragging Scott to his cell, shouting and telling him, "fucking walk by yourself, you piece of shit."

Scott didn't respond, because he still wasn't conscious.

They dropped him unceremoniously, the same guard kicking him hard in the ribs.

Clint winced when he heard a sharp crack followed by a soft moan of pain. The guards left, muttering insults and threats.

Clint looked him over in concern, since he could see him from his cell which was across.

"Scott, can you hear me?" He asked desperately, getting a soft moan of pain as a reply.

"Clint that you? I think I'm in the cell next to you." Clint nodded, before remembering he couldn't be heard.

"Yeah, think you're to my right, Sam." He said back. "Clint, Sam? Where are we?" Scott croaked out in a raspy voice.

"We ain't too sure ourselves, Tic Tac." Sam replied softly when he saw Scott clutching his head in pain. 

"Anyone see Wanda?" Clint asked, with Sam almost immediately replied. "I can. Wanda, can you hear me?"

Clint looked to his left to see that Wanda was in the cell at the end, not talking. He felt rage bubble up in him.

Wanda was physically there, but he could tell she wasn't here mentally.

"Wanda?" Scott said in a hoarse whisper, and she seemed to come back to life. "Scott? What happened?" She asked softly, her Sokovian accent carrying over heavily.

Scott shook his head weakly.

"Not sure." He slurred. Her eyebrows furrowed. "Are you alright, Scott?" She asked, worried.

Scott didn't answer this time, shifting weakly in his cell as blood dribbled onto the pristine white floor from his temple.

"Not really, Wanda." He replied softly after a pregnant pause.

"Think I got a concussion." Wanda gasped, her instincts overtaken with worry. Scott let out a soft groan, before letting out choking sounds, gagging weakly.

"Scott, turn on your side." Clint instructed firmly. Scott did so, continuing to hack up phlegm and blood.

"You okay, Tic Tac?" Sam questioned. "Maybe if you'd stop calling me that." Scott snarked back weakly, getting a laugh from Sam.

"Touché." Sam said with a light hearted chuckle. "Hello, new inmates." Came a familiar voice. Clint ran towards the glass and slammed his fists against the glass.

"Where's our trial, Ross?" Clint spat angrily. All he got in response was a dark chuckle. "Trial? Oh, no Mr. Barton.

War criminals like you don't get a trial." He jeered. "I'm not interested in you. I'm interested in Mr. Lang's knowledge of the Pym Particle. Would you help me out, Mr. Lang?"

Scott glared weakly at the man, clenching his jaw and shaking his head no.

Ross sighed in fake resignation, before gesturing towards Scott's cell.

"Very well, we'll begin with him. Enjoy your stay on The Raft."

With that, two guards dragged Scott out of his cell, ignoring the infuriated shouts of the others.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Be sure to share with your friends and leave a comment. Fun fact: this chapter took up five pages of my composition notebook that I wrote it in :) Want to follow the process of my stories and get a sneak peek at the draft pages? Follow my Instagram, Drakeskull  
> Tell me if you want me to add Eddie and Venom, and if you'd rather see Scott with Clint or Sam!


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